


Dark Harvest

by DumbFireHazard



Category: Gorefic - Fandom, Invader Zim
Genre: Dismembering, Experiments, Gore, Horror, I dont know how to tag things, Kidnapping, Torture, caniblism, gorefic, killing game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:28:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28644468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DumbFireHazard/pseuds/DumbFireHazard
Summary: Dark Harvest is an Invader Zim gore fic.TW: torture, suicide, among other dark elements.Dib is finally done playing dumb to Zim as he prepares to make him pay for his sins against humanity.
Kudos: 7





	Dark Harvest

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Suicide, blood, trauma, abuse, bullying
> 
> Please beware, this is explicit and I intend to make the next chapters go into even more detail.

It was once again that the duo had been caught in the middle of the Skoolyard with the dim purplish sky casting its gloomy light upon the two enemies. Dib had been accusing Zim of being an alien once again, which was profusely denied as he dodged and weaved his way through crowds of scattered students while Dib was throwing an assortment of objects at him. It continued, per usual, until the bell rang, and all the children began to disperse, flowing in every direction to escape the wretched place before they got shut in. It was in these currents of students, the ones flowing this way and that (like a packed stampede), that Zim and Dib had truly gotten separated. While Zim was more than happy to run off and begin plotting his ingenious plans in his lair, submerged in the earth, Dib felt quite the opposite. Dib felt almost enraged about this unexpected turn of events.

“I almost had him!” He yelled to himself once he had been freed from the crowd outside the gates, “Dammit!” He spat again, tossing his briefcase onto the ground in a fit, sputtering and muttering curses to himself, all the while stomping the grass and dirt with his foot.

Many students made their way past, some giving Dib a quick look of confusion or fear, while most quickly scuttled past, hoping not to be the next victim of the delusional boy’s ranting, lest he get violent again. Of course, however, Dib was not delusional. Zim very well was an alien and there was no way anyone would believe him without concrete proof, despite Dib having it time after time after time again, a never-ending clock that would repeat the same dull toll over and over for all eternity.

Once Dib had finally willed himself to calm down, he began to collect his belongings that had been cast astray in his tantrum. Turning to make sure he had gathered up everything he could have potentially dropped, he acknowledged the damaged lawn with an annoying click as he glared at it. When he had had enough of that, he stood back up, only to bump into something. This something seemed quite large and sturdy, and it was unmoving. Dib was almost certain there were no walls around, so slowly he looked up and back to find a much larger kid obstructing his path. 

“Watch it!” The large kid snarled out at Dib, shoving him out of the way into the clumps of dirt he had kicked up. 

Dib began to dust himself off, grabbing his baggage again and mumbling to himself again, something about the nerve of some people. However, it seemed that the boy had just realized who he had bumped into and he let out a sound of disgusted anger and revolt. It sounded moist almost, the way his mouth filled with bile and the way his lips smacked together for him to gag on the thought that had fallen into his throat. 

“It touched me!” He exclaimed, “Dippy Dib, touched me!” he shouted again, giving Dib a mortified look.

Dib groaned, this happened more often than he would like to admit or hope, but he had gained a certain tolerance to it. It still hurt, but he could bear it for the sake of humanity.

“Hey, look, sorry man,” Dib started, not even bothering to look at the boy.

He was cut very short.

“No, just shut up!” The kid shouted, “First you believe in all that supernatural bullshit, then you start picking on that new kid and calling him some alien, like a psycho. No wonder he’s an outcast because of your insane ass! Don’t talk to me!” He growled, shoving Dib hard again.

It was now that any leftover students had either decided to run away and to safety from the angry goliath of a boy, or they had gathered together a couple of feet away, cellphones in hands and ready to shoot the drama.

He stared from the startled Dib on the ground to the huddle of flashes and phones and back again before he chose a verdict, “I guess I’m already infected now,” He shuddered, “Nothing to lose.”

Before Dib could respond, he felt a hard punch to his jaw, sending him flying back into the chain-linked fence surrounding the Skool. As he tried to protest, a kick had landed him in the groin and he let out a yelp of pain. Punches and kicks, the beating of objects persisted as Dib cried and screamed, bruises, tears, dirt, and blood starting to coat his entire outer body. Promptly after some other kids had joined in, but only after Dib had tried to crawl out and away. It went on for what Dib had thought must have been hours but had only been about 20 minutes before they stopped. It got less entertaining and sadder as it neared the end, and the children didn’t care much for the quiet whimpers that rarely came from him. They made sure to leave him alive, for however big a creep Dib was, he surely did not deserve death.

After everyone had faded away, slowly one after another, Dib had decided to set himself up. His glasses were cracked, his eyes swollen so much that he could hardly see out of them, and when he reached up to touch them, the pain was immeasurable. He could only imagine the dark blue and black rings they left behind. He continued his self-evaluation; No bones seemed to be broken, however, his arms were covered in cuts and gashes and his legs seemed to be as bruised and swollen as his eyes. He pushed himself up, wincing at the pain as his peeled hands scraped at the now further indented ground. His ankles wavered beneath him when he tried to stand. Wobbling, he attempted to gather his most important items that seemed to have spilled about once more, stumbling and limping his way home.

The walk was agonizing. All Dib could feel was a pain as he slowly suffered. He wanted to cry, but he had no more tears left in him. He pushed on, ignoring the odd and concerned looks he received from neighbors and passers-by, telling himself it was all for the sake of humanity. One day he would take out Zim, save his planet, his people, and it would all be worth it. It was all worth it if he could stop Zim. Then a sudden realization had struck him, what if he could never defeat Zim? What would all this be for then? He slowed his slow place ever slower. What if?...

***

Dib had been both thankful and uncertain about the weekend. He had locked himself in his room since he had gotten home, Gaz hadn’t noticed the state of him, but maybe that was for the best. 

Gaz, of course, knew Zim was an alien, but she didn’t care as Dib did. His father had no time to be around that weekend (not that he was much help either,) so solitude it was. Up in his quiet, quiet dark room. Alone.

He decided not to eat those few days, staying curled up in his blankets, crying and crying over again until he could no more and fell asleep. At least the physical pain had numbed, no more larger bruises (which thankfully healed quickly) and only faint rings around his eyes. From crying or the beating though, no one would ever know which. This repeated cycle; over and over again. Nightmares and bad memories, recounts of previous battles plaguing his mind, until on Sunday night- or much rather Monday morning- when The Witching Hour was at its finest he had awoken with a start. Dib felt so miserable, he realized now. He had never seen it, but he saw it now. It made him dreadfully depressed, and, unconsciously, Dib had reached for the little silver pocket knife he kept on his dresser. It was silent as Dib made a jabbing motion towards his wrists, then each ear, then towards his chest, and finally to his neck, where this one lingered. There were no actual cuts from the knife on his body, but he could imagine them. He imagined the sight, the sound of torn skin, the smell of gushing blood.

He quickly tossed the knife away, the said item landing somewhere among cluttered clothes on his closet floor. If he was going to go out, he wanted to do so in a much less messy way. He searched around his room, plotting out different ways he could go about the situation. He couldn’t get the weight set high enough up to be effective, there wasn’t anything lethal enough in the house for him to O.D., so the rope it was. He solemnly attempted to tie the noose, failing, practiced with a Wootube video, then actually tied it, and hung it on the ceiling fan.

Dib thought for a moment, as he loosely grasped at the loop of rope, staring out his window out to the other side of the cul de sac where he could see Zim’s home in view. Zim had caused all this, “It's all his fault.” Dib thought to himself, pulling the noose closer and closer to his head.

“He should pay.” Dib ground his teeth.

The noose started to slip around the top of his head.

“He should be punished.” He growled again.

The noose slipped further down.

“I should punish him…” Dib muttered as an idea popped into his head. 

Suddenly it wasn’t the end. He had found a bright light and it had spoken to him in the dark. Zim was going to pay for all the trouble he caused and for all the pain he created. As Dib began to plot his next plan to stop that damn Irken, he began to slip the noose off when a sudden knocking and banging on his door startled him, causing him to lose his footing as the noose hung and swung violently.

“Breakfast is ready,” Gaz called from the other side of the door, the beeping and pressing of buttons from her console capturing the majority of her attention.

Dib could not answer though, as he had been struggling and clinging for breath when he heard Gaz walk away. He clawed at the rope as his face started to turn blue and then the rope snapped. Now, as Dib fell to the floor with a loud thunk, something else seemed to snap inside his head. He lay still on the floor for a moment, catching his breath, as he thought up an even better idea than before. This new idea was so wicked and dastardly, and he had never thought of it before! He wondered how all this time he never saw the clear answer in front of him…

He shuffled over to the windowsill, staring back out to Zim’s house. He had a devious plan hatching in that large head of his. It was so wonderful, it even brought a great, jagged, toothy grin to his face.

***

In the darkness and morning dew, Dib ran. He ran quietly through yards and streets and sidewalks until he got to the front yard. For whatever reason, the Safety Gnomes seemed to be offline, likely asleep. Dib would have groaned for how stupid he was to have never noticed that before, but instead, he snuck up to the front door and opened it. It was no surprise that if Zim was stupid enough to let his Gnomes "sleep" during the night, that he was stupid enough not to lock the door or use any means of protection. 

He hurriedly tip-toed around, peering in all the most peculiar places; The fridge, under the couch, over the couch, behind the TV, in the toilet, but he was met with regrettable failure. He sighed, leaning on the object nearest to him in the kitchen: The trashcan. He gave the bin a side-eye, opening in hastily and low-and-behold, there was something! A tube system of some sort, Dib reckoned. He lifted himself over the now exposed chute, positioning himself and then dropping. He slid through the system and was deposited into a little room.

In one corner of this little room sat a large T.V. screen, no doubt used to contact Zim's leaders, Dib nodded, looking to the other corner. Zim slept "peacefully," muttering this and that about eternal doom now and again. Irkens, no matter how strong or tough, needed to rest at some point. Unfortunately for Zim, the night Dib had come was the night Zim was offline, but more importantly, defenseless. As Dib approached, he noticed funnels and cables plugged into the PAK on Zim's back. Dib, experimentally, pulled at one and when he did Zim began to flutter awake. Dib released it in shock and Zim seemed to flop down with it. In another attempt, he tried to poke Zim. This time, he remained motionless. 

Dib processed the information for a bit, his brain chewing and spitting out ideas until he got a good one. If Zim couldn't feel when Dib poked at him, maybe he wouldn't feel if he did something a little extreme. He searched around the room and found that it was completely empty aside from the aforementioned Zim and T.V. screen, so back to the kitchen it was. 

It took him a couple of minutes to figure out how the tubing worked, but once he had, it was fairly simple. He zipped back into the kitchen, finding a nice looking chair and bashing it against the wall until it splintered. Dib took his newfound weapon and hopped right back into the tube. 

Now came the fun part, he giggled to himself. 

He slowly crept up to Zim, lifting the leg up to swing. He braced himself, biting his lip excitedly. Then he came down. Hard. As the wood made contact, he heard a cracking noise. Just as he had theorized, Zim remained motionless, unaware of the assault. Dib smirked to himself and took another swing. He took a couple more swings, just to make sure, and then one more for good measures. The greenish purplish blood sprayed and splattered against walls and the sheets. Some even got on Dib's face, he didn't seem to mind though.

The bones looked just as splintered as the wood had been, but the blood was far too liquidity to be considered blood. In fact, it seemed almost like water. Dib shook the questions from his head and got back to the task at hand. 

This time, with much less caution, Dib ripped the cables straight from Zim's back. He instantly became alive, screaming and howling in pain as he looked to his legs and back over at Dib.

"What have you done!?" He shouted. He never thought Dib would be able to sneak into his lair but to have severely injured Zim like this, was absolutely unfathomable. 

Dib picked him up in his arms, completely disregarding the protests, screams, and shouting. It wasn't until Zim decided to push against Dib with his hands that he actually minded. He firmly smacked Zim's thigh, growling angrily, "Shut up already."

When Zim didn't stop, (rather he yelled louder) he began to smother his mouth, returning from the tube, and back into the Membrane household. He stood at a crossroads, hiding Zim in his room would be too risky, he figured, so it was to the basement he went. When he had finally made it to the bottom, Zim had had enough of the suppressed breathing, as he bit down hard on Dib's hand. 

He yelped, dropping Zim to the cold floor with an audible crunch as he tried to wriggle his way up the stairs and away. He couldn't help but scream, "Save me!" From the top of his lungs, or whatever there was instead of lungs. 

Dib stormed over, shaking his bit hand and scowling.

"Shhhh, they'll hear you." He sneered, plucking Zim from the back of his head.

Zim shook around some more before Dib dropped him. Zim went for the stairs, climbing up with each agonizing leap of hands and scattering fingers. He was almost there, almost at the top when a shadow appeared from behind. Dib swiftly brought the pipe down to Zim's head just as he had done to the legs earlier. What a fun game they would play together. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this chapter, consider looking at my other works or leaving a question! I'm updating it every two weeks and it has a set storyline.


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